Aspasia Williams and the Sea of the Stars
by out.of.sea.into.woods
Summary: Since the siege of the Desert, Chaos has not stirred. Now, Aspasia has been sent to Percy Jackson's Academy for Demigods. Against the backdrop of teenage hatred and rising tension with Aaron Jackson, there is something dark coming, humming in Aspasia's soul. A cry is coming from the Wild: Something is killing the stars.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys! Here's "The Sea of the Stars"! I'm so excited for this and it's just going to be great. Just for a note, I will indicate which chapters are from Aaron's point of view or Aspasia's.**

**This will probably make no sense without reading the first two, so that might help.**

**Here you go.**

**Still don't own PJO.**

CHAPTER 1

_Aspasia_

The snow is crisp against the breathtaking morning sky. Tinged with traces of coral and gold, each snowflake plays it's part in winter as they dance down to earth. New York is smoking, trapped in it's hazy gauze. From my car window, I smile softly as my breath fogs up on the glass.

Argus is driving me to the Academy, my bag tosses in the empty seats beside me. It's just us, the sound of our breathing in the empty van. I try not to be freaked out by the hundreds of eyes staring at me. The roads are crowded, even at dawn in January.

By seven in the morning, we get to the Academy. It's a tall, grandiose building, with tall windows and immaculate lawns. I've been told it has three floors, a basement level, and three wings, along with an arena and several other amenities.

I push in my ear buds, letting the rhythmic bass drown out my thoughts.

I slide open the van door, sliding out with my bag hooked over my shoulder. "Thanks, Argus." I say. He nods, his eyes blinking sporadically. Awkwardly, I close the door and he drives off.

_Goodbye, Camp_. I think, turning back to face the school. "Hello, real world." I mutter.

"Hey!" A friendly voice calls. The big front door is opening, revealing a very tired Percy Jackson, scruffy with an early morning smile. He's wearing a dress shirt, a tie, and a thick sweater, matched with new seven o'clock shadow. Walking down the steps, he takes my bag for me. "Welcome to the Academy." He doesn't hesitate to hug me and I let him, reciprocating for a moment.

"Come on," Percy leads me inside. "I'll show you to your room. You can settle in before classes start." The main hall is cavernous, glowing with soft light reflected off the polished marble of the floor. A chandelier glitters from the roof.

"Wow." Even with a whisper, my voice echoes.

"Yeah. Annabeth did all this. I didn't care either way, but I will admit, it looks nice." He heads up the plush stairs. "Come on. This way" I follow quietly, my footsteps muted against the thick carpet.

The Academy is beautiful, I'll give it that. But I take in the beauty quietly, with submission. I was suppose to come at the beginning of the school year in August, but after a great deal of shameless begging to Chiron, I managed to postpone the transfer till now. I thought that spending an extra four months at camp would get me in _the know _about what was to be done about Chaos. About taking next steps and making plans. Instead, I got four months of cold shoulders and polite words. Also, alone. Yeah, a lot of alone. So, in the crisp morning hours of January, I have arrived at Hell.

Percy leads me down the halls, dim with the morning light. He speaks in a whisper when he tells me, "The wings are divided up by gender. You'll be in the East wing."

_Communal bedrooms_, I cringe internally. _Shared bathrooms. __**People**_.

Almost on cue, Percy says, "This isn't in the rules, but I managed to get you your own room." A burst of hope. "It's a little small." He leads me to the first door of a long hall. "And a little... _Prison-_esque." He opened the door and the hope died.

By _prison-esque_, I assume Percy meant that it may or may not be designed to be identical to an insane asylum room. Besides a steel framed cot smack dab in the middle of the room and a small, black cabinet, the room is barren, the gray walls blurring together. There is a small window on the far wall, letting in white light. The ceiling is dented with the imprint of the stairs above them.

"I'm under the staircase." I can only say."

"Yeah." Percy sets my bag on the ground. "Unfortunately, it's the only _single_ room and it just so _happens_ to be under the stair case to the roof." He chuckles. "A regular Harry Potter."

"What?"

"Never mind," He says with a sigh. "It's not that big I know... I can put you in with the other girls if you would-"

"_No_!" I shout, a little too loud for the tiny room. "No, thank you. I... I prefer, ya know. Being alone." I smile softly.

"I got ya." Percy nods, scratching his beard. "Well, breakfast is at eight, so I'll see you there?" I nod. He smiles and squeezes by to leave, but turns back and says, "He wanted to be here. Ya know, to meet you or whatever. But I told him not to. He has a big test today and-" Percy shrugs. "But I thought you'd like to know."

I nod in gratitude and, as Percy leaves, I close the door, which gives off the most magnificent squeak. I run a hand through my hair, pulling out my ear buds and taking off my coat, setting it on the bed.

I think about my meeting with Aaron, what it will be like. We've talked (whether through IM or phone) almost every day since he left camp. Always wonderful and bright and full of life and vigor and it reminds me of why I came to the Academy, why I really came. Yesterday, he was downright giddy with my eminent arrival in the city.

"You'll love it." He said. "You'll love it so much. It's gonna be great." I just smiled and nodded.

I lay down on my bed, sighing. I'm not tired, but I still close my eyes and listen to my own breathing. A headache begins to press up against my skull and I try to massage it away. I've been in the city for a total of ten minutes, and it already feels like an elephant is stepping on my head.

But, I try to understand Chiron's motives. Chaos is coming, and if he and Mr. D and Annabeth are truly planning the next step, they don't have time to take care of me. And at the school, I can learn skills that will help me, undoubtedly.

I still can't shake the feeling of betrayal.

After a while, I start hearing noises, the sound of tired voices calling to one another, of water running, doors opening and closing. The Academy is waking, I suppose. I look at my watch and it reads 7:25. I sigh and try and clear my head.

My phone buzzes.

"UGH!" I sit up, pawing at my coat for my pocket. "Really, gods, come..." I fumble with opening it, opening the message. Aaron insisted on me having a phone, but I managed to convince him I only needed the type of phone elderly people have. Turns out, I can barely work _that_.

Finally, I push the right button and open the message. It's from Aaron, reading:

U here?

I text back.

In my room.

Almost immediately,

COME TO THE MESS HALL.

I smile and, without responding, walk out of the room, wondering where in the world the mess hall is.


	2. Chapter 2

**I don't own PJO.**

CHAPTER 2

_Aspasia_

I'm speed walking down the halls, keeping my head down and avoiding eye contact with everyone. No one really pays me any attention, but I still tread quietly. I smooth the wrinkles in my white blouse, wondering if my breath still smells like the cold pizza I had for breakfast. At the top of the stairs, I stop, because there he is.

Aaron is waiting there, back towards be, arms crossed, probably making that adorable impatient face he has. He's wearing a gray long-sleeve shirt, with brown pants and a sturdy pair of boots. Yes, we've talked over the break. But it's not like seeing him, knowing he's right there, being comforted by his _thereness_. He doesn't turn around, so I end up spoiling the moment by saying, "Hey."

He turns around instantly and his face melts into a delicious sort of smile. "Hey." He's a shade paler, his hair a little shaggier, but still styled into that meticulously messy look that I think is so pretentious, but it's beautiful right now.. He hasn't shaved in a few days, I can tell by the sparse stubble along his strong jawline. But still.

"Hey." I laugh a little, not believing he's really there. And not knowing how to go from separation to together in an instant.

A laugh from him. Gods, his laugh. "Hey."

I smile big, biting my bottom lip. After a moment, I race down the stairs, and he races up them. When we meet in the middle, I throw myself into his arms. He stumbles a bit, but manages to get a grip on me. I bury my face into his neck, breathing his scent in deeply. Old Spi- Wait, it's Axe. Huh, he switched brands. But underneath it, there's the smell of his skin and the tang of his sweat. His skin is smooth against my skin, warming, like a miniature sun. His hand is pressed against my back, another wrapped around my waist. His breath tickles my ear as he says, "Hey."

I shake my head fondly and pull back, brushing back a few stray locks of hair from my vision. His eyes glow sweetly and I can't help but kiss him. It's our first kiss, our first kiss back. His lips are full and soft under mine, but there's a strange edge to this kiss, a disjointed-ness. But it only makes me kiss him harder.

"Hey! Aaron!" A shrill voice calls. We separate, Aaron rolling his eyes and my cheeks burning. Aaron turns to face a girl with caramel colored skin, holding hands with a tall boy with shaggy brown hair, standing in the doorway at the back end of the foyer.

"_AARON_!" The girl calls teasingly. "_P-D-AAAA_!" Aaron laughs and shakes his head. I managed to chortle a bit, without knowing what's funny. The girls walks up to us, the boy in tow.

"So this is the famous Aspahseah." She says, horribly mispronouncing my name with a sort of purposeful carelessness. She's a little pretty, but her nose is far too big and she smiles in a too-broad sort of way that makes me cringe at the sight of her pearly teeth she proudly displays as she leans against the railing.

"As_pasia_." Aaron carefully enunciates.

"Aspasia, right." She says dismissively.

"Aspasia, this is Kristin." Aaron tells me.

I'm about to say hello when she says, "You must be really something to get our Aaron so wrapped up in you like this. He hasn't said a word about anything else since he got back from that goddamn Camp." I'm sure that's meant as a compliment, but my skin grates at the way she says _our_ Aaron.

"And this is Troy." Aaron gestures to the boy, who awkwardly waves to me. I wave back. They both look at me expectantly, like I'm suppose to give them some sort of conversational jewel, but all I can manage is, "So, who are your parents?"

Apparently, by the disgruntled way Kristin furrows her eyebrows and the condescending way Troy chuckles, this was not the right thing to ask.

"Well," Kristin clears her throat. "I'm Apollo."

"Oh." My voice sounds a little disappointed, and I don't mean it too.

"And Troy is clear-sighted."

"You mean," I say slowly. "A mortal?"

Troy laughs. "Sorry." I blush and look at my feet.

There's a moment of awkward silence, where I know they give Aaron weird looks before Kristin says, "Well, we're gonna go get some breakfast. See you in class, Aaron. Nice to meet you... Aspasia."

"You-" But they're walking away too fast for me to finish. "Too." I sigh a little, but Aaron just slips his hand into mine. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No, it's just-"

A passing kid, maybe thirteen cuts him off with a, "Hey, Aaron."

"Hey, man." Aaron shakes his hand jovially. "What's up?"

"Not much." The kid replies with a shrug, giving me a cautionary glance.

"Alright, alright." Aaron nods as the kid walks away.

"Who was that?" I ask slowly.

"Oh, I don't know some kid." Aaron shrugs.

"Then, why-"

"Listen, can we go get breakfast?" He asks. "I haven't eaten and-" He pats his stomach. "Kinda wasting away here."

"Sure." I laugh. He pulls me along slowly, hand still intertwined with mine. He asks me about the ride here and I tell him all the tedious details, somehow getting into how it was at Camp and I end up just spilling everything out to him, every moment. A few weeks ago, I pulled a muscle while practicing. It still aches a bit. Jean hasn't contacted me since he's gone home, somewhere in Virginia or something. Is Charlie good? Have you seen Colette? And most of his answers and simple and clear and short and wonderful and nice.

The cafeteria is painted a dull blue, with long tables running down it's length, filled with loud children. A dull roar makes the very walls vibrate. There are about 125 students eating now, about the entire student body. I picture the almost three hundred kids of Camp and I don't feel so overwhelmed.

"Hey, I'm just gonna run through the line." Aaron gestures to the thick, bustling line of students crowding into a little side room, wafting scents of prepackaged food filling the air. "You want anything?"

"An apple." I call to him as he ambles away. I wait, awkwardly, not knowing what to do with my hands and feeling naked under the eyes that have begun to stare. Despite having been stared at for my entire life, these are _new_ eyes; new judgments, new feelings, new _people_. I try not to make eye contact with anyone, focusing on my faint reflection in the neatly washed linoleum floor.

There.

Just past me, just for a moment. A figure, looking down on my reflection, right behind me. Tall and dark, eyes bright green. His mouth, moving so fast I can't see it clearly. Whispers crowd in my ear, urgently dancing around my head.

"What?" I demand the mirage. "What do you want? What are you trying to tell me? Please, just _talk to me_!"

I've started shouting into the floor, which has earned me many more judgmental stares. I give the crowds of kids, oatmeal running down their chins and eyes full of sanctimonious confusion, a few embarrassed glances, feeling my cheeks warm with a blush. I straighten to my full height, holding my head high. After a moment, the eyes turn away and the roar of early morning conversation comes back full swing. I give the floor a quick glance, only to find the apparition gone.

My father.

Yes, that's who it is. I know it. It has to be. I haven't had many visions since the Desert. Only a few, when I'm lost deep in the woods, surrounded by nature, and then, only fleeting images. Like static on T.V. Whispers lost in the night, figures running in the trees. Never something as close as what just happened.

I try to shake it off, but the heavy weight in my stomach tells me that it can't be good. Something is happening. Something bad. But I have to ignore that now, because here comes Aaron and I have to meet more of his friends.


	3. Chapter 3

**I don't own PJO. Sorry I haven't been updating recently. I've been having a really, extremely busy few weeks and it's only gonna get worse, so bear with me. Thank you for your patience.**

CHAPTER 3

_Aaron_

After a quick breakfast, I walk Aspasia to our her first class, that she happens to share with me. The classes are all on the main floor, with rooms on the third and training facilities in the basement. The classes are kinda strange, a mixture of normal ones (AP English, Biology, Pre-Calc) and Demigod ones (Mythological History, Beastarium, Battle Tactics). My dad believes that, one day, a student could walk out these doors and live a normal life, totally uninhibited by the supernatural. I think that's just a load of bullshit, but that's me.

Down the West Wing, Aspasia and I walk into our Beastarium class. There are already a good twelve people in class, lounging around and talking loudly. Aspasia pulls herself a centimeter closer to me, her grip on my hand tight. I suppress an eye roll. Why can't she just be _okay_ around people?

I take a seat towards the back and Aspasia takes the one next to me, quickly and quietly. The girl sitting on the desk beside her gives Aspasia a glance. Blushing, Aspasia looks down at her desk, rubbing her neck. I understand that meeting new people is hard, but you could put a little effort into it. In her defense, not even the indifferent but familiar faces of Camp are here. Most campers come to the camper, but those with mortal parents who think they can forget about the _strange_ side of their child by putting them in mortal school don't approve of the Academy. And not all Academy students go to Camp, those who now have _two_ mortal parents and can't quite make up a reason for spending all summer at a strawberry farm.

The bell rang and the class settled down as Ms. Menchiari made her way in. She was a tall, lanky women with a wild frizz of red hair framing her thin face.

"_Good_ morning, students!" She said shrilly, her glasses magnifying her eyes to dominate her face. "I'm happy to see _all_ of your happy faces on the first day of second semester!" She scurried over to her podium, calling out roll. Aspasia gives me a look from the corner of her eye.

"Um... _Ah-spah-cee-ah _Williams?" Ms. Menchiari butchers Aspasia's name, making her wince. The class subtle looks back at her.

"Um, _here_." Aspasia raises her hand. "And, uh-" Aspasia seems to notice the stares of everyone and her mouth clamps down into a hard, thin line.

"It's actually _Uh-spay-cee-ah_." I jump in for her. Aspasia gives me a weird look, but I try and ignore it. She can thank me later.

"Right, quite right." Ms. Menchiari mumbles. "A peculiar name. Quite peculiar." There's a pause where you expect her to say something like, "But lovely," or something to that effect. But she just goes on and calls out, "Teri Zrull?"

I glance over at Aspasia, and sigh with what I see. She's shut off, her face is stony and emotionless. It's the face she gets when she's feeling _too much_. Instead of just dealing with it, she just bottles it all up. She won't even glance at me, and I settle back into my seat, rolling my eyes.

"Alright, everyone!" Ms. Menchiari chirps. "Let's have a volunteer or two to pass out the textbooks and we'll dive right in, shall we?" A couple students hand out the beaten, weathered brown _Beasts of the World_ textbook. I run my hand over the grainy cover. The words are stretched out and a bit grand, with an insignia of a bright blue eye in the middle. Even faded, the eye is a bit jarring.

"Now, open up to page six." The rustling of pages fills the air. "We will be starting the year with examining the creatures of the woods. But first," She ambles down between the rows, her noisy red hair held back by a colorful scarf. "Can anyone tell me _how_ we classify beasts?"

Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Aspasia's eyebrows furrow in confusion. I can't help but feel a bit pleased. Finally, she won't be top dog anymore. Finally, we've found something to confound her. Ugh, I just used confound. How _Aspasia_ of me.

A boy in the front named Ben Wilson raises his hand. "Yes, Benjamin." Ms. Menchiari says.

"Well," Ben answers. "A beast is a creature-"

"Oh, you'll have to do better than that." Ms. Menchiari says breezily.

"A _creature_ with less than human intelligence." Ben finishes, a bit annoyed. "Anything without sentience."

"Co_rr_ect." Ms. Menchiari trills. "But how do we define sentience?" Silence. "Anyone? How about you?" She calls on a girl named Cora, sitting by the window.

With a groan, Cora manages, "Um, well... Self aware?"

"YES!" Ms. Menchiari rejoiced with a little too much enthusiasm. "Self awareness. Consciousness. This is how we separate Beasts from Humanoids and Spirits, which I'm sure you studied in your other classes." I look over at Aspasia, a layer of confusion breaking through her mask. I feel a little bad for her, being in this totally new system with all this new information and people and things.

"Now, the first specimen you will see on the page is a _hind_." The picture is fairly old, showing a stag that looks creepily like Argent, only sterner (if that's possible). "Can anyone tell me who the hind is sacred to?"

_Please_, I desperately pray. _Please, don't raise your hand. Don't say anything. Gods, Aspasia, please-_

"Yes, Ms. Aspasia?" Ms. Menchiari says. I suppress a groan.

"Artemis." Aspasia responds, her voice weird and different.

"Very good! Now-"

"But they're not _beasts_." Aspasia interjects with a bit of a frown. I clench my hands into fists.

"Excuse me?"

"If we're calling beasts anything without sentience, hinds aren't beasts. They can think, they're smart."

"Well," Ms. Menchiari coughs. "I'm sure they're very clever, but the classification system-"

"They're _not_ beasts." Aspasia says firmly. Her eyes a glowing now, which is never a good sign.

"Oh gods..." I murmur quietly. But of course, with her super freaky hearing, Aspasia, locks her withering gaze on me. I hold out my hands in defense, but stay silent.

"Ms. Aspasia." Ms. Menchiari says awkwardly. "The textbook clearly says-"

"Well, the textbook is wrong."

"Huh." Ms. Menchiari chuckles. "And who are you to say this?"

"Aspasia Williams." Aspasia raises her chin proudly. "Daughter of Artemis." The classroom gives hushed giggles and murmurs. Sitting there, looking regal like a queen, Aspasia is jarring against the peeling paint of the wall and the smell of sweat and mold.

"Oh." Ms. Menchiari manages, pushing her glasses up her nose. "Well, I see then, um..." There's an awkward pause, where grins crack across everyone's faces and eyebrows are raised in questioning. Aspasia seems to catch herself and draws back down into her seat, her mask returning to her face.

"Well... Let's move... Move on." Ms. Menchiari stammers. "Can anyone tell me the abilities of a hind?"


	4. Chapter 4

**I don't own PJO.**

CHAPTER 4

_Aspasia_

"I hate everything that has ever existed." I mumble into my pillow.

"It's not that bad." Aaron tries to convince me, leaning against my door frame. I push myself onto my elbows, looking at him sternly.

"I'm literally living in a closet. A _closet_."

Aaron tries to hide a smile, which irritates me to no degree. "I know I'm suppose to be sympathetic and all, but you have to admit, it's pretty funny."

I bury my head back down into the pillow. It's the end of the school day, and now I have the rest of my waking hours to lament over every single thing I've done in the past eight hours. I feel like a social pariah, like every class I go to, I manage to say something that's _just_ off enough to make everyone stare for a second. Gods, it's not even the stares, why should the stares bother me? But it's-it's the intelligence, the power behind those stares. Why do these eyes have power over me? Why do I let them determine how I feel?

"I am just a _freak_? Is that what's happening to me?" Silence. I sit back up, my hair crazed around my face. "Eh-hem?"

Aaron just looks at me blankly. "What?"

"Anything to _add_?" I ask, slightly accusatory. I regret that, but I'm a little upset, and my head is killing me and Aaron isn't really helping.

"Well, you do act a little..."

"A little _what_?"

"Pretentious?"

"_Pretentious_?" I laugh, a little angry. "How so?"

"Well, correcting a teacher for starters-"

"She was _wrong_."

"Still, it's just- I don't know, it makes you seem... Like, like you think you're better than everyone else." He says, not making eye contact.

"How in the world does it do that?" I roll my eyes.

"I don't know!" I wait for some more information, but he just shrugs. Rubbing the bridge of my nose, I ask, "Anything else I should know about?"

He doesn't hesitate. "Asking people who _their parent is_-

"_Is a perfectly legitimate question_." My voice sharpening. "It's something I was wondering, so I asked it!"

"It doesn't matter here. There aren't any cabins, there aren't any lines drawn between people, so-"

"I didn't know what to say, it seemed like a normal question to ask."

"Yeah, but it's something freshmen ask."

"_So_?!"

"It's just not..." He searches for a word, running a hand through his hair. "_Cool_." He instantly looks like he regrets that word, but it's too late now.

"_Oh_." I say sarcastically. "It's not _cool_? Well, now that I know that, let me just write it down so that I can make sure I get in with the _cool crowd_."

"Gods, Aspasia," Aaron rubs his face, frustrated. "Why d'you have to be like this?"

"_You're_ the one acting weird." I stab my finger at him. "Why does it matter if I-"

"It doesn't matter." Aaron cuts me off. "Don't worry about it."

"No, let's just-"  
>"It doesn't matter, Aspasia."<p>

"Aaron, I-"

"Just _let it drop_." He says firmly. To end the conversation further, he saunters away, closing my door behind him.

I stare at the door, confused. Aaron's never acted like this with me, so... Socially conscious. Maybe he's just going through what I am, maybe he's just getting concerned with what other people think. But there were other people at camp too, but his arrogance didn't swell like here. And he's never shut me out like this before, never just walked away. Yeah, we got into fights (metaphorically and literally), but we managed to work through it in our own kinetic, disjointed way. But now-

I lay on my back, letting out a grown of frustration. _People are stupid_, I decide. _Maybe I should just run away and live in the woods. Be Queen of the Squirrels_. _Yeah_, I nod to myself. _That'd be the life._

After a moment of silence, I reach into my pocket and pull out my phone (a device that I'm still foreign to). I dial in Jean's number and wait. But all I get is a short voice message, saying how he's sorry that he couldn't get to the phone and that he'll call me back when he can. But even those two sentences are so nice to hear is Jean's awkward, growing, lovely voice.

At the beep, I say, "Hey- It's me. Oh, uhm, I mean, it's Aspasia. Sorry, I just- I had my first day at school and-" I try to find the end of this sentence, but I don't know where to look. "I just- I just wanted to check in. Uhm. Yeah." I let the call linger, listening to the dead noise on the other end of the line before I hang up.

I sigh and roll over on my side. But in the corner of my eye, I see something glimmer on the ceiling. I sit up, trying to see what it is. It's just a little spot, a shimmery silver against the off-white. I'm about to stand up on my bed and touch it when it starts to grow. I hunch down, a little scared. The spot grows, shifts and deepens to something strange and foreign. I think of screaming, but no noise leaves my mouth. The spot is now the size of a man, stretching down towards me, taking shape, taking-

"No." I murmur. The spot has become my father, all shining and desperate, like he's floating on an ocean that is my ceiling, and he's stretching out onto the surface, trying to reach me.

"Please." I look away, grabbing handfuls of my hair, trying to will it away. "Please. Stop."

"Aspasia..."

His voice is like sandpaper, but I react to it instantly. All fear gone, I stand up on my bed, getting as close to my father's face as I can. "What? What is it?" His face is so familiar to me, so foreign. Rugged, with a scar cutting its way through his eyebrow. His lips are chapped and they part, trying to form another word. But something is pulling him back, and he starts to disappear into the ceiling once again.

"No!" I try to grab onto him, but my hands slip through his silvery form. Soon, he's gone, and I'm left staring at the ceiling. I fall back down onto the bed, disheartened. I look down, and my hands are glowing, fiercely.

_Weird_, I think as I dim them. Normally, I have to actually _think_ about lighting my hands. The image of my father's face, so near, so scared, sends shivers down my spine. Looking like a ghost, like something dredged up from a nightmare. _It's one of Chaos' tricks_, I tell myself. It makes the most sense, and she's done it before. She's psyching me out. Which means she's planning something. I try to connect the dots, but there aren't enough dots to connect. I want to talk to someone: Jean, Charlie, Percy, Annabeth. Aaron. But I can't shake off the ill feeling surrounding me. I grab my pillow, lay down, hold it tight, and close my eyes. I don't sleep, I just pretend to not be here.

**Sorry for the long wait, everyone. Ya know, musicals, finding jobs, passing classes, taking exams... Sheesh.**


	5. Chapter 5

**I don't own PJO.**

CHAPTER 5

Aspasia

The library is old and quiet. The smell of books permeates every pore, every book case. The light of the late afternoon is gold as it spills onto the oaken floor. I sit in one of the aisles, leaning my head against the spines of the books, feeling the knowledge soak in.

Classes ended a few hours ago, and most of the students are in the Commons, or out in the city. Most sneak out, since it's against policy to be off-campus without teacher permission. Aaron and his friends invited me along for a night in the city, but I couldn't make myself. Being around them in it of itself made me feel like someone chained a red-hot collar to my neck- smoking, burning, nervous, choking sensation taking over me. But out there in the city- I couldn't imagine.

Those people- all expecting something from you. You had to be clever or witty or vulgar or sweet or sultry or _something_. You had to have something to give to them, something to distract them, amuse them. Something they could talk about behind your back. The thought of it made me queasy, all the gossip and social climbing. No doubt, they were already whispering about me behind Aaron's back. Or maybe with him. Who knows?

I look down at the books strewn around me. I've been trying to find anything I can about Chaos, but it hasn't been easy. I try not to think how much easier, how it could be almost enjoyable if Aaron was here, helping. I didn't ask him, I felt like I was already, I don't know, _inconveniencing_ him.

Anyways, I'm not sure what good it would do. Most people just write that she was shapeless, without rules or reason. There was Night, and Erebus. Both just appearing from her. Then, all of a sudden, Love. And then Day. And then the Earth and Sky and Ocean all burst into existence, forcing Chaos out of the picture. The book in my lap only talks about the Earth and her children, which is useless. I push it aside with a sigh and run my fingers through my hair, massaging my scalp. A pounding headache sits at the top of my skull, crushing my brain. It seems more than my regular pain, which is exhausting. I close my eyes and feel myself start to drift off.

A loud _bang_ brings me back to reality. The light is gone and the entire library is black. I can barely see in front of me.

"Hello?" I call out, my voice a bit hoarse. Coughing, I call again. "Hello? Anyone..." A rustle of pages. The whistle of the wind. I begin to notice how cold it is and start to shiver. I try to calm my quivering heart, but something is in this library with me.

I toss out my hand and three balls of glowing light float down the aisle, casting a comforting silver glow around me. I start to relax. I take a step down the aisle, trying to make my way to the door. And then suddenly, the furthest light away goes out. And then the next one.

"No, stop!" I hold out my hand trying to shine more light. But nothing. The next light goes out and I'm left with one orb, glowing in the darkness. I spin on my heels, ready to run, when I come face to face with my father.

He's standing there, glowing eerily in the dark, inches from my face. I raise my hand to hit him, but he grabs my wrist, and his grip is like steel. His eyes are haunting, imploring. His other hand grabs my shoulder desperately.

"Please." His voice, like the crackling of paper, is booming in the silence of the library. "Daughter, please."

"Let go!" I hiss at him, my jaw clenched tight. "You're not real, you're not-"

"_Daughter_!" His voice booms. I stop struggling. "Please, we don't have time. I haven't the strength to stay long. But you must hurry- she traps more of us by the hour."

"She?" I ask, breathless.

"The stars, they are getting lost." Orion's eyes are piercing. "They are trapped in- In-" A shudder runs through his body. His glow falters. But a moment later, he's back. "I cannot stay long, my appearance draws her attention. That woman," he cursed. "She is coming for us. For _you_."

I know who, I know. But I don't want to. The word comes to my lips unwillingly. "Chaos."

Orion nodded grimly. "You must come. You _must_. Already, the boy is securing your passage. But you must hurry. Daughter, you must come home."

"What do you mean?" My mind felt like it was just a featureless blur. "Who? I don't-"

"Daughter-" But his form just started glowing, painfully. His grip, growing tighter. And colder. Like my arms were wrapped in ice. And then, the cold turned to a burning sensation.. I tried to pull free from the horrible pain, I opened my mouth and let out a scream, but the only thing that heard me was the blinding light.

_Aaron_

"Come on!" Kristin calls. In the dark of the night, I can only see her silhouette. She holds Troy's hand, whose cigarette glows in the dark. I smile and chase after them.

The city is noisy and smells like trash, but I feel the tension leave my shoulders. I feel like I've had to take are of Aspasia. She just walks about the school like she's this baby, all wide-eyed and quiet. And when she's not a baby, well- she's _awkward_. Just... Awkward. I also thought she was really cool and mature, and I guess she is, but I never noticed her complete and total social ineptness. Like, she makes eye contact. _All the time_. And, I don't know, it kinda freaks people out. And she asks these questions that are so- _Direct_. Like, she has no idea how to break the ice with anyone. How to chit-chat. It's kind of really frustrating, like-

_Woah_, a small inner voice pipes up. _She's new. She's never been in a place like this. She-_

"Aaron!" Troy yelled loudly down the mostly abandoned street. "Move yo' ass!" I shook my head and jogged after them. We're heading east from the school, to a bar where it's pretty easy to trick the bouncer to let us in. And once we're in- we're golden.

A chill runs down my spin and I hug my jacket closer to my body as I hurry after them. The thought of Aspasia all alone at the school makes me a little sad. She's probably so bored, all alone.

_She could've come_, a voice tells me. _You invited her. Forget it._ So I do.

We sneak into the club pretty easy, with just a snap of Troy's fingers. The Mist wraps around him like a thick sweater against the January cold. And once we're in, the lights blur into deep maroons and teals as drinks and tightly rolled joints are exchanged. The music blurs too, disappearing into a smear that is only too-loud bass and distant voices.

Don't you fucking say anything.

Because when the lights blur and my laugh gets way too loud and Kristin starts yelling at Troy and he starts downing drinking and I feel the curve of some girl's waist under my hand and she says she's just here to have fun and the taste of her lips comes quick and uneven as it slides messily across my mouth.

Don't.

I'm now sitting in some plush chair, tasting something sharp and bitter on my tongue, staring at the floor as it lights up darkly. I look up and Kristin is crying. Troy is pretending not to notice anything past the bottom of his glass. I smile faintly, but I don't think it's cute. There are so many people in this club, and the music is so loud, and the air has been filtered through too many lungs, and something dark flitters by like a butterfly and I try to see what it is, but nothing. My head pounds like a hammer and I stumble to the bathroom.

Typically dirty and surprisingly empty, I can only smell piss, pot, and cum, which isn't exactly my ideal scent, let me tell you. I walk over to the sink and splash some water on my face. I'm being the lame one. _Don't be the lame one, Aaron. Don't. No one likes the lame one. Don't be the Aspasia. Ha. Alright? Don't_.

I look into the mirror and my green eyes flicker sadly, as if they know about the hangover that'll hit them like a bag of bricks tomorrow.

It takes me a few moments to remember that my eyes aren't green.

My face wavers and then there is night, Night. Night, standing there in her vibrating darkness, her hair curled around her pale face sweetly and softly. The dark around her deepens. She smiles radiantly and the darkness buzzes with warmth.

"Shh." She says, holding her finger to her full lips. Really, I haven't said anything, haven't even moved. Haven't even decided if she's real.

"Here- to make you feel better." She leans in, through the reflection, and kisses my forehead. The kiss resonates deep within me and my headache disappears. The buzz of alcohol has disappeared. The feeling of damp sweat along my back and under my arms vanishes, the smells and stenches of the club- gone. A few shouting teenagers. A man with green eyes and expectations. A beautiful girl with too-red hair. All slowly trickle out.

I smile, experiencing bliss.

**Remember how I was missing from the site for like a year? Remember how no one tells you that senior year will be as hard and as busy as it is? Yeah, I do.**


End file.
